


Talk Dirty To Me, Cas

by Eden Marie Dawson (Her_Morningstar)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Destiel - Freeform, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Smut, M/M, friends crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 10:12:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6700801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Her_Morningstar/pseuds/Eden%20Marie%20Dawson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel wants to learn how to use dirty talk to impress his girlfriend, so he comes to the "sexpert" himself, Dean Winchester. But things go maybe a little too well...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lessons

"I do not understand the point of this exercise, Dean." Castiel stood facing the floor-length mirror that was hung haphazardly on the back of Dean's closet door. His brow was creased with frustration, confusion laced in his icy-blue eyes. If Dean himself hadn't been so frustrated he might have found the whole ordeal quite hilarious.

"Look, you want to get laid, right?" He chose to ignore the slow head-tilt that Castiel had become known for, at least when he was around him, anyway. "You want to have sex, yes? Well, if this chick wants you to talk nasty to her then you're going to have to practice. Chicks don't dig that clinical bullshit that you angels like to spew."

"But... how will talking to my reflection help to reduce the use of these clinical terms? I am supposed to talk to myself how she is wanting me to talk to her?"

"...In a way. Alright, look, maybe this was a stupid idea. Here, you can practice on me. Turn around."

Castiel's face flushed for a split second, for reasons he was still uncertain of, but did as he was instructed; he turned around to face Dean, whom had already slid off the barstool he had been perched on and was standing about a foot from him.

"Alright. The key to dirty talk is that you want to make it seem natural. You want it to flow easily off the tongue," he quickly held up a hand to silence anything that Cas was about to question, "it's supposed to be sexy. Now I know you, Cas, you should have no troubles being sexy, you just have to let yourself get into the groove of things. Start thinking with your body and less with your head. It'll make for a damn good time, trust me."

"I do trust you, Dean. You know this." Dean rolled his eyes. This angel took everything way too literal. "What's some of the things that she wanted you to do to her? Maybe if we work it out step by step we can figure out where you tanked so you don't go down the same road next time you wanna jump her bones."

Castiel didn't comment on the confusing choice of lingo, but instead, closed his eyes and heaved a soft sigh. "She wanted me to touch her skin with my mouth."

Dean had to bite the inside of his cheek rather harshly to keep a straight face. "Okay, so she wanted you to kiss her body. What happened then?"

"She...wanted a commentary on every thing that I planned to do to her. I panicked. I told her that I was going to lay her down on the bed, then, I was going to remove each article of clothing. After we engaged in sexual intercourse, I was going to walk downstairs to tell her father that he had a beautiful daughter and that he should knock before going into her room."

With that, Dean was on the floor. He was laughing so hard that the phantom bruises from the last battle they'd encountered actually started to sting again. The complete look of confusion and faint hint of embarassment on Castiel's face wasn't helping the matter any.

"Dude..." He was nearly crying at this point. "You really need to get out of your head so much. Girls want to be treated like they're the only one in the world. They want to feel like the entire universe could be falling down around you and yet they're the only one that you want to look at." He sat up, holding his side as he attempted to catch his breath. 

"You like this girl, right?" Cas nodded. "Then I'm going to help you get her. Just...don't say things like that again or I may bust a gut laughing. Come on,"

"Where are we going?" The angel, ever so quick to question, still fell into step behind the still-snickering eldest Winchester.

"If we're going to do this, I need a beer first. I think Sammy left us some in the fridge."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three beers in and half a large sandwhich shoved down his throat and Dean finally felt like he was ready to tackle this task head on. ...Wait, that probably wasn’t the best way to word that. Ah, whatever. He wiped his hands on the sides of his jeans and motioned for Cas to put his beer down and stand up. “You’re going to practice on me. Now just say whatever you want to do to this chick to me. You can close your eyes if you need to.”

Castiel looked genuinely uncomfortable with the idea of doing this “exercise” as he called it, with Dean. Another sigh was heaved before he succumbed to the fact that he wasn’t going to get out of this any other way. “Well... I want to see you...her....without your...her... clothes on.”

“Alright, go on,” he urged as he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back on his heels just slightly. “What do you want to do next?”

“I want you...her... to put your...I mean her... Damnit all to Hell, Dean, I can’t do this.” Cas threw up his hands in frustration, the hem of his trenchcoat billowing out slightly with the swift action.

“Hey, easy man. If it helps, imagine I was her. We’re buds, right? You can trust me. Ain’t gonna be no weird shit or anything, just close your eyes and say exactly what is in here,” he clapped his open palm over Castiel’s heart, “not in here,” he moved his hand up to give his forehead a slight ‘thump’.

Another deep breath, similar to what Sam would have called a “yoga breather” wherever the hell he’d heard that term before, and Cas closed his eyes again. “I want to see you bare. Not just naked, but vulnerable to me. I want you to not just want me, but to need me, with every aching fiber of your being. I want to take my lips and trace every dip and curve of your body, trailing my tongue after each kiss until you’re quivering underneath me, perched on the edge of oblivion. But I won’t let you fall. Not yet.”

Dean’s jaw was slack as he stared at the angel before him. He was getting into this gig, and it was obvious by the look on his face: a look of pure concentration and....determination? A shiver skated up the Winchester’s spine as Cas started to speak again.

“I want you to take your nails and rake them down my back until your fingers are slippery with fresh blood. I want you to wrap your legs around my waist so tightly that we’re both certain that bruises will appear before morning comes. I want to taste you, the most delicate, delicious parts of your soul, I want them all. I want you to cling to me as if your very life depended on the exact moment that I thrust in and sent you soaring into the pleasurable oblivion that is your orgasm.”

Cas opened his eyes to find a very red-faced Dean staring slackjawed at him. He blinked, blue eyes wide with innocence as if he hadn’t been the one to just spout off near porn-like descriptions. “Was that better?”

But before Dean could reply, there was the sound of slow clapping coming from the entryway to the kitchen. Sam stood there, two bags of groceries sitting at his feet, with the biggest shit-eating grin imaginable plastered onto his stubble-ridden face. “You know, I was always rooting for you two kids to get together. Should I come back later? It seems like you were in the middle of something.....important.”

“Shut up, Sam!” Dean snapped as he threw one of the abandoned empty beer bottles at his little brother’s head. He was able to dodge it easily, but the hysterical laughter carried through the apartment that the brother’s now shared, even after Sam had left the room.

“Did I do something wrong? You don’t look well, Dean.” Cas was by his side in seconds, the back of his hand pressing gently against the other’s forehead. Despite how cool his touch actually was, Dean jerked back as if he had been burned with a fire poker. “Yeah, Cas. I’m just fucking peachy.” His cheeks were still tinted faintly red, but his eyes were set in a hard glare at the door, silently daring his younger brother to return to the kitchen any time soon. 

“I suppose that’s enough practice for one evening. I am going to go now. You....will call me if you need anything....won’t you Dean?” He was lingering by the doorframe, almost as if he were reluctant to leave him in such a manner. He wasn’t completely convinced that he wasn’t ill.

“I’ll call you, Cas. Promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was three in the God-damned morning and he was still wide-ass fucking awake. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way that Cas had been describing what he wanted to do with that girl....or the fact that he had only been able to let go and reveal those things when he had been told that it was fine for him to think of Dean AS that girl. Could it be that he was actually thinking about him the entire time? They had always had an unconventional relationship, that was for certain... and Sam’s comments earlier, no matter how much of a joking manner that they’d been spoken in, still held some truth to them. He was always making sure that whenever they needed to split up on a job or a project that he was either beside Cas or at least within calling distance of him. Even Bobby and, God save him, Gabriel seemed to know something that he didn’t.

“Shit. This is ridiculous. He’s your best friend for crying out loud. Of course he doesn’t feel that way about you. One, he’s an angel. Two, he’s a fucking GUY, and three....” There had to be a three, right? Dean sank onto the edge of his full-sized bed, dropping his head into his hands with a desperate groan of frustration. “There has to be some rational explination for these feelings. I don’t GET romantic feelings. I don’t DO romantic shit. I’m Dean fucking Winchester, love’m and leave’m kind of guy.” So why...why couldn’t he bare the thought of Castiel leaving him when they weren’t even technically together?

“Because you love him, Dean.” Sam’s voice drifted in from the shadows of the other side of the room. How the hell long had he been standing there? It didn’t matter. “How much did you hear, you little spying prick?” Even his insults were half-hearted right now.

“Enough to know that you’re lying to yourself if you think that there’s a rational explination for loving someone.” He crossed to the bed, where he plopped down beside Dean and threw his arm around his shoulders. “Look, bro, you need to talk to him. Especially before things get any more serious with this girl that he’s been seeing. You’ll hate yourself if you don’t.”

“Yeah. You’re right, Sammy.” He clapped him on the shoulder as he stood up, but still, his legs felt as if they were filled with lead, and his ankles tied down with wet sandbags. 

“Could you give me a minute?” Sam merely nodded and with one last pat to his big brother’s shoulder, exited the room.

Okay....here goes nothing. “Cas?” Dean tilted his head toward the ceiling, green eyes closing as he folded his hands into a pyramid shape, just for stupid dramatic effect. “Cas. I....need you.”

There was a slight flutter of wings, the shifting of a tan trench coat, and a rough, gravely voice speaking up from the corner. 

“It’s about time you called.”


	2. And now for something completely unexpected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On to the smutty-smut that earned this fic it's rating in the first place!

"Clothes. Off. Now." Each word breathed against the too-hot skin of the Winchester's neck was punctuated with Castiel's blunt fingernails scraping harshly against whatever skin that they could find. Things had started out so simple, with Cas coming to Dean with a problem that he figured only he could help him solve, and now, here they were, with Dean's back scraping against the wood paneling of his bedroom wall, Cas's hips grinding mercilessly into his, desperate for skin-on-skin contact, and any hopes of keeping their clothes in tact laying in shambles along side the clothing that Castiel had already managed to shred from their bodies.

This was a stark contrast from the innocent little puppy-dog-eyed angel that he had been talking to earlier. This was a darker, more urgent version of his beloved best friend, and Dean wasn't sure if he was going to be in Heaven or Hell by the time this was over. The only thing he was sure of was that he didn't care, so long as Cas didn't stop.

"Can't strip when you're g-grinding on me, man..." He hated that his voice cracked there at the end, but sweet Lord, Cas was driving him mad with the constantly changing rotation of his hips. For a virginal angel, he certainly knew his way around Dean's body. Not that he was complaining, mind you....

"Fine," came the deep, almost possessive growl. Castiel made quick but sloppy work of removing Dean's button down flannel and black t-shirt. He wasted no time in plunging his hand down into the other's pants just as soon as he got them pried open, bypassing the boxers and wrapping his hand firmly around the base of the other's length, elicting a delightful groan of pleasure from Dean in response.

"My...you've c-changed... Did our little lesson work?" Dean was not one to stand idly by when about to be fucked...actually, he'd always been the dominant one in his relationships, so this was completely new for him... so he busied himself with tearing the trench coat from the angel's shoulders, his own blunt nails ripping down his back and tearing through the white button down that he wore beneath the coat. He could feel the muscle ripple beneath his fingers, as he drug his nails slowly back up, framing his spine.

"Shut up, Dean." Castiel was through beating around the bush....so to speak. He cocked his head to the side and bit down harshly on the soft, tender flesh just between Dean's neck and shoulder, effectively cutting off any smart ass reply that he may have been cooking up at the time. The tighter than tight jeans that he always wore offered no space for movement, causing frustration to crease at the other's brow. 

Reluctantly, he forced himself away from Dean, completely removing his body from touching the other all together. The needy whimper that subconsciously left Dean's lips, paired with the half-lidded expression and breathy way that he was panting awoke something damn near primal inside of the Warrior's body. Manually removing their clothes was taking too damn long. Cas needed him -now-. 

Before Dean could blink, or even register what was going on, Cas had him flat on his back on the bed, completely naked except for the thin black cord that he wore around one wrist. He hoisted himself up onto his elbows just in time to see Castiel crawling up from the bottom of the bed like a -fucking tiger on the prowl-. He didn't think it was possible to get any harder, but damn, somehow he'd managed.

"I'm going to rip you apart, Dean Winchester, and you are going to be screaming my name by the time I'm done with you." His hands were on either side of Dean's head, making him feel strangely vulnerable. Wait, hadn't he said he wanted him to be vulnerable? Or was that the girl? Oh, who the fuck cares, shut up and let this happen!

He dipped his head, pressing a feather light kiss to the very corner of Dean's lips, then trailing a line of similar feather light kisses from his jawline, down his neck and collarbone, to the expanse of his chest and down to his navel. He dipped his tongue into the curve of his belly button before lowering himself further, expanding his exploration to include the other's inner thighs, each time getting an inch closer to the throbbing member at his center, but each time, avoiding it intentionally. He was silently getting off on the groans of frustration mixed with anticipation coming from the quivering man beneath him.

"Tell me what you want." He was mocking him, using a line from their earlier 'exercise' and turning it into a game. Dean's hands balled into fists at his sides, his teeth sinking into his lower lip when Cas blew silently over the slightly moistened tip of his length. "Tell me, Dean, or there's no sense in me being here. You said that you needed me....well, tell me what you need."

"Y-You. Damnit, Cas, I need you!" Dean didn't know what frustrated him more, the fact that he was being forced to admit what he knew the angel already knew, or that he was actually -laughing- at him, the bastard!

"Yes, I know that. But what do you really -need-? Do you need me to heal you?" He traced his tongue along the dip where his leg met his pelvis. "Do you need me to hold you?" A few nips to his sensitive inner thigh. "What. Do. You. Need?" Each word paused by a single, teasing lick to the underside of his member.  
He couldn't take it anymore. "Damnit Cas, just fuck me! Make me yours, fuck me til I can't walk straight in the morning, just fucking TOUCH ME!"

"As you wish," Cas smirked, the look alone enough to make Dean almost cream right then and there as if he were still a damn teenager that couldn't control his bodily urges. He shifted backward, sliding off the bed and causing yet another strangled cry of frustration and confusion to leave Dean's lips. "Relax... I'm going to take good care of you."

Cas wrapped his hands around Dean's ankles and jerked him downward toward the edge of the bed, to where his legs were draped onto either side of his hips. He lifted the other's hips, hand splayed against his lower back, palm glowing and sending a radiating warmth into the other's virginal channel. He knew it would be far too painful to carry on without some sort of aid, and he was fairly certain that Dean didn't keep lube stashed around the bedroom. He judged by the low grunts of pleasure coming from the man above him that it was working, and while he was distracted by the low hum of warming pleasure, he removed his hand and jerked his hips down hard, impaling himself in his new lover's body.

"Sonofa-!" Dean's back arched off the bed, elicting another groan from Cas as the action only caused the angel to slip in to the full hilt. He stayed still, despite his thighs trembling with the urge to fuck Dean into the mattress, but he was going to give him time to adjust to his size. He refused to hurt him....more than he probably already had, anyway.

"Move," he gasped, gyrating his hips to try and get any sort of added sensation, the pain had nearly faded and the pleasurable agony of waiting was driving him insane. "For fucks sake, Cas, move!"

And move he did. He gripped Dean's hips almost as hard as he had when he'd first jerked him from the depths of Hell and started to pound into him. His brother, Gabriel, had joked with him once or twice about men having a similar 'secret spot' inside them that would make them see stars when found. He assumed he had located such spot when Dean threw his head back into the mattress, mouth falling open in a silent scream. So, he did just as any person would do when discovering something interesting.

He did it again. 

Dean's body was unbelievably tight, gripping him like a perfectly matched glove and milking him for all he was worth. Dean was clawing, at the bed, at Cas himself, at anything that he could reach as the levels of pleasure grew higher and higher, and higher still.

But Cas wanted them to come together, and he wasn't nearly done with him. Just as Dean was about to reach his climax, Cas wrapped his hand nearly painfully tight around the base of his dick, keeping the hold until he was sure that he was no longer in the 'danger zone'.

"What the fuck, Cas?!" He seemed outraged, which only made him smirk. That smirk...so sexy, so rare... so undeniably Cas. "I'm not nearly through with you yet, Winchester." Dean felt a shiver snake down his spine, first from the tone of Cas's voice, then another when the cool, damp air of the bedroom hit his exposed opening as Cas removed himself from his body. He was about to protest when he felt himself being spun, literally, onto his hands and knees. His face was shoved down into the bedspread, Cas's hand pressing onto the back of his neck, and then he was being fucked again, harder and more urgent than last time. It didn't take long for Cas to relocate his prostate, pistoning in and out until Dean was certain he was going to explode into a million tiny little pleasurable pieces.

And then his damn hand wrapped around him again. He groaned out, pathetically, he was certain, but instead of cutting off his orgasm, Cas seemed to be aiding him in reaching it. He stroked him hard and fast, seeimingly trying to keep in time with his thrusts, though his rhythm was a little bit off. Dean didn't care, he was too far lost in the unbelievable bliss that was being thrust upon him. ....Literally.

"You're going to come for me, Dean... we're going to fall over the edge together. I'm going to make you mine, forever. You will be bound to me and only me." He bit down on the other's shoulder, hard enough to draw blood, as he thrusted hard one last time into his ass. Cas's name fell from Dean's lips in a half-scream, half-moan as he, too, fell over the edge of oblivion and finally shattered in orgasmic bliss.

"I....did not know you had that in you...." He breathed, when he could finally catch his breath, anyway, as he lay with his head on Castiel's chest, both enjoying the afterglow of some of the most mindblowing sex Dean had ever experienced. "You're sure you were a virgin before this?"

Castiel just chuckled, his fingers lazily coasting up and down Dean's arm. "Yes, Dean, I was."

The emerald-eyed Hunter rolled his eyes slightly and shifted just a little to get more comfortable. "Couple of things, though. One, we should probably warn Sammy next time, because I think we scarred him for life if he heard us."

"Very well." Though this thought didn't seem to bother him too deeply. "And the other thing?"

It was Dean's turn to smirk now. "Next time, I'm on top."


End file.
